BabySitter Edgy

Ever had those days when you're feeling twitchy? It was a Friday evening and I'd been feeling twitchy all day. I'd released some of my tension by flirting with customers and staff at work, not going too far because they have all these sexual harassment rules these days. I was still edgy and the best way to work that edge off would be to go to a nightclub to have a few drinks, a few dances, and some more serious flirtation. (Still not going too far because some of the bozos you meet at nightclubs are strange.)

So was I going to a nightclub to drink and dance and dabble in romance?

I was not. I was trotting over to George and Jenny's place to put in a few hours baby-sitting, because a commitment had been made and must be honoured.

Well, I can hear you thinking, if you made the commitment then you should honour it. I didn't make the commitment. My little sister did. (Not that seventeen was all that little but she was younger than me so that gave me the wisdom coming from being older than her and made me deserving of respect. Not that I got much respect, I'll admit.)

Her problem was that she hadn't counted on being knocked off her bicycle and winding up with a sprained ankle. She rang up Jenny to apologise and assured her that I'd be only too happy to fill in. I explained to Patti what I thought of her solution. Our mother then started in with how families helped each other and it wasn't as though I'd be breaking a date and Patti was always willing to help me when I needed assistance and wasn't I wearing Patti's new jumper right then and you get the drift?

I capitulated, swearing to myself that the next time Patti had an important date I would deliberately break my ankle and insist she stay home to nurse me. That'd show her.

Jenny was sweet, petite, and quite pretty. I considered her a little under-developed bust-wise but compared to my 36Ds a lot of women looked a little under-developed. Not that I flaunted what I had, except perhaps just a little while at the beach. I have to admit that I really do have an excellent figure. Both my mirror and my boy-friends assure me of that.

George was a bit of a brute, size-wise. His looks were belied by his personality as he was quite charming and had a keen sense of humour. Dumb was something that he was not, even if he did look it.

I'd sat for them before when I was a little younger and got on well with both George and Jenny and the kids. George liked to flirt a little but it was all innuendo and no groping or going too far. I brightened up when I remembered that. I'd be able to wear off some of my edginess by flirting with him. While I wouldn't be going the grope I was willing to bet that I could engineer a situation or two where George found himself accidentally groping me.

Ha! Ten seconds. That's all it took me. Ten seconds. George had just let me in the door and I'd walked past him, remembered my phone was still in the car, and spun around to dash out to get it. George had just pushed the door closed and his hand was still in the air and when I spun around his hand just naturally met with my breast. I don't know if he deliberately closed his hand over it or if it was an automatic reflex but there I was, standing there with George holding my breast.

"Really, George," I said, even managing a pretty blush (which isn't easy).

He hastily backed off, all apologies, and I just pointed back to my car murmuring that I'd left my phone in it and I'd be right back.

After that I said hullo to Jenny and got reacquainted with the kids. It took George a good five minutes before he was able to come up with even the simplest innuendo and when he did I blushed again, my hand coming up to lightly touch the breast he'd grabbed. He flushed and was quiet for another five minutes.

Nothing keeps a good man down, fortunately, and as Jenny was busy getting ready to go out (George was ready. Men are like that. They walk into the bedroom and back out and they're all ready to go.) I was the only entertainment around the place. He just naturally rallied and started up his normal mild flirtation. (I was careful not to draw attention to my breast again. I didn't want to overdo it.)

For all my casualness and playing with the children most of the time I suspect that George did manage to get an eyeful of my cleavage a time or two. I was wearing tracksuit pants, unfortunately. I'd have preferred to have come in a short skirt to really tease him but that would have been too much of a change from my normal behaviour.

Even though George was a gentleman he still managed by chance to have me pressed against him, my breasts crushed against his chest. It wasn't his fault, I assured him. Probably mine for coming around the corner so fast.

The most interesting incident was when George was waiting patiently next to the door for Jenny to come, as they were nearly ready to leave. I was still playing with the kids and when little Susie pounced on me I jumped back with a laugh.

Straight into George who found himself pressed between me and the wall, my buttocks firmly pressed against his crotch. Was it my imagination or did I feel something moving against me? Not my imagination, I was willing to bet. I apologised politely and continued our game with Susie.

George and Jenny departed and I looked after the kids, feeling rather smug and pleased with myself. I suspected that George was now feeling rather frisky and Jenny would be having some fun when they retired for the night.

The kids wound up in bed asleep and I wound up curled up on the couch watching TV. For once there was actually a decent movie on. Time passed and I was just starting to nod off when I heard the door open and George and Jenny returned.

George seemed happy and cheerful whereas Jenny seemed happy and sleepy. George packed Jenny of to bed, saying that he'd pay me and be with her soon. Jenny vanished and George took out his wallet to settle up. It was the standard fee plus a ten dollar tip as I had to fill in for Patti at a moment's notice as it were. I was quite happy to accept the tip. Ten bucks is ten bucks, after all.

George escorted me to the front door, talking all the way. I was slightly surprised when George followed me out of the house and even more surprised when he took my arm, turned me around to face the wall, and pressed me up against the wall.

"Now let's see how far you're willing to go," he said. "Ah, don't worry about the light. The porch is actually rather secluded and can't be seen from the street. You have to walk down the drive to see onto it."

At the same time as he was talking he was grabbing my tracksuit pants and pushing them down. They dropped quite easily after they got past my bottom.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" I demanded, astounded that he could be so blatant about it.

"Right now?" he asked. "Just rubbing you."

Rubbing me was right. His hand had slipped between my legs and he was rubbing my mound quite firmly. The silky feel of my panties between his hands and my flesh didn't ameliorate the feeling in any manner whatsoever.

"But you can't do that," I pointed out, feeling rather shocked.

"Um, if you were paying attention you would find that I can and am. Only with your permission, of course."

"But, but I didn't give you permission," I hastily pointed out.

"True, but you didn't refuse, either. Still, seeing you seem a little unsure. . ."

I thought he was going to stop and gave a small sigh of relief. Or maybe it was one of disappointment. It had felt interesting, exciting even, to have him touching me up like that. My relief or whatever didn't last long. The only reason he stopped touching me was so that he could latch onto my panties and hoick them down. After that it was his rough hands rubbing against my sensitive flesh with no barriers in between.

"I didn't mean you should do that," I put in quickly, wondering if I should start panicking or not.

"No refusal, remember?" he pointed out, continuing his massage. (I was going to say gentle massage but gentle wasn't quite the way to describe what he was doing.)

"Just how long are you going to continue this?" I demanded, reluctant to say stop but equally as reluctant to say yes, go for it.

"As long as I think I can get away with it," he said calmly. "Um, let me demonstrate something."

His hands moved up and closed over my hips and he pulled me towards him. I immediately felt a long hard hot bar pressing between the cheeks of my bottom. I didn't need three guesses to tell what that was.

I started spluttering, not knowing what to say. His hand dropped and slid between my legs again, quite happy to continue with his little massage.

"You are quite free to tell me to stop at any time," he stressed. "If you want to back away from this I'll quite understand your nervousness and I'll stop."

Nervousness? Is that what it is when you're not sure if you want a man to ram his lance into you? Wouldn't respectful caution be a better way to phrase it? The way he spoke you'd think I was a nervous Nellie, frightened to even see a man's equipment.

I was slowly twisting about, unconsciously pressing myself against his hand while I did so. He was getting me aroused and we both knew it. Ha. Who was I kidding? My tracksuit pants going down was all that it had taken to arouse me and everything since then was just intensifying it.

He kept touching and I kept squirming. I knew that I should be saying no in a loud clear voice but I just couldn't bring myself to do so. It just felt as though if I did I'd be losing and he'd be the winner. A little voice pointed out to me that if he stuck that battering ram up me he'd probably consider that a win as well.

I felt a change to the way he was touching me. He wasn't slipping his fingers between my lips so much as using those fingers to spread my lips apart. I knew precisely what that meant and I started to panic.

"Um, look," I started. "I think, ah, that, um, ah, um. . ."

My voice petered away into a rapidly repeating ah, ah, ah, sound, starting to increase in volume as his cock started plunging into me. Any second thoughts I may have had were way too late. So were my first ones because I never did reach a decision as to whether I'd permit this or not.

He felt enormous as he drove into me. Was this because it was the first time with George, the fact that I hadn't yet seen his cock, just felt it, or was it in truth that enormous. The way it felt inside me I was opting for choice C - it was that big.

Not that it made any difference as he was now filling me with it and I was in no position to say stop. Oh, yeah, I know, in theory I just say stop and he does. That was not a theory I was going to try out in practice. Far easier to just wear him out, leaving me with the victory.

His hands had moved to my hips and he was pulling me towards him as he thrust in. I didn't try to resist, just pushing back against him, letting him go in just as deep as he pleased. I could handle him, I just knew I could.

He didn't waste any time getting under way. My hands were flat on the wall, pressing against it to make sure I didn't get mashed into it by his energetic activities. You could hear a loud wet slapping sound as he drove repeatedly into me, matched by my little cries as I pushed to meet him with great fervour.

The whole thing was exhilarating, exciting, titillating with the knowledge of misbehaviour, getting fucked by a married man while his wife was inside waiting for him. I suspected that she was going to be disappointed if she expected any action tonight.

He was going harder and I was barely keeping pace with him. For that matter I was just barely holding it together. The pressure was building up inside me and I was going to blow up at any moment.

I managed to shove one hand against my mouth as I climaxed, not daring to scream in case Jenny came out to see what was going on. I just shook and shuddered, wondering how on earth I wound up in this situation.

He withdrew and patted me on the bottom, telling me how marvellous I was. He suggested I'd have to fill in for Patti another time. He'd look forward to it. He faded back into the house while I was hastily pulling up my panties and pants. I headed towards my car and I suspect I wobbled sightly as I went. Funnily enough, that edginess I'd been feeling seemed to have gone.

"So, did you enjoy the show?" George asked Jenny as he ambled into the bedroom.

"Most entertaining," Jenny replied with a smirk. "You were right when you said she was dying for it."

"I've invited her to fill in for Patti again some time. What do you think of that?"

"Could be interesting. I'll show her the film from the security camera and see what she says."